


W A I T

by rhoflor



Series: One Shots | Dylan O'Brien [1]
Category: Dylan O'Brien - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 03:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14560305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoflor/pseuds/rhoflor
Summary: It’s 4 AM and Stiles is sending a drunk text to his ex.





	W A I T

Sweaty bodies. That’s all I can feel. My feelings are intensified. I love this feeling, honestly. Alcohol is such a weird concept. Like… you can actually numb all the pain that’s inside of you. It’s so bizarre that just with this beautiful liquid, amber liquid, transparent liquid, water, juice… wait, what was I talking about? I don’t think it mattered that much if I can’t remember what it was.

Oh, right. I’m drunk. Nah… I don’t think I’m drunk, I’m more like tipsy.

Whoops. I tripped over something that I really can’t see. The music’s too loud, these people are _way more_ drunk than me… drunker than me? Who knows, clearly, I don’t. I really need to get out and get some fresh air.

“Where’s Scotty?” I say out loud even though no one’s really paying attention to me, they’re just dancing and twerking to the music. I see him a few feet away all pressed up against Malia. I push and shove people to the sides until I’m right against them and I place my palm against his shoulder. He turns abruptly and his eyes flash red. “Woah, dude. Don’t go all wolfy on me.”

He squints his eyes and his upper lip shots up. “What?”

 _God, Scotty, sometimes you don’t even act like a proper werewolf_. I lean closer to his ear and yell, “I’m going ousside.” He just nods and that’s all the acknowledgement I need.

I stumble through the multitude, stepping on some feet here and there and earning a few death glares because of it but honestly, who gives a crap about that? I don’t. An electric shock travels along my spine as soon as the cold November air hits my skin. I should’ve listened when Melissa insisted on bringing a jacket. That’s what I get for being a rebel.

Oh yeah, I am a rebel. I, Stiles Stilinski, a rebel. I never really understood why they called my grandpa _Stiles_ , like, that is such a weird nickname. But let’s be honest, Mieczysław doesn’t really roll off the tongue either so who am I to judge good ol’ grandpa Stiles.

I remember when I went to visit him last year. It was a little bit after the Ghost Riders had taken me. I remember I was really scared to go see him, it had been years since the last time Pops and I paid him a visit and I never really _knew_ what to say to him. But it was because of Y/N that I gained a little courage and decided on going, but not without her. I would act really childish just because I had the biggest crush on her and wanted to spend some time with her. I really think that was the first time she saw me as something more than a friend. After that day, we got along so well. I would go to hers and spend the whole day eating pizza and watching movies. It was really convenient that we both lived in Virginia and we were only a forty-five-minute drive apart. Whilst I was at the FBI Academy she was studying at Georgetown University. After a few months, I asked her if she wanted to be my girlfriend over a very awkward dinner and she smiled the biggest of smiles and said yes.

Oh, her smile. The things that I would do just to see that smile one more time. Just one more time.

I take my phone out and type a quick message and hit send without even thinking twice.

Wait a second…

I look at the digital clock on my lock screen. It’s like 4 AM, why the hell I just text my ex?

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. _FUCK_. Why the hell did I do that? I run my palm over my face and start pacing along the small alley, hands shaking.

“Oh, you know what? Fuck this shit.” I pull on my hair and it stays all spiked up. I take my phone out and type another text but as soon as I’m about to hit send I delete the message and put the mobile back in my front pocket. “Nope, can’t do it. Won’t do it. She’s probably asleep anyway so she won’t see this until tomorrow and I can just say I was drunk, which that is definitely not a lie. Wait, where’s my drink?”

Not important. Focus, Stiles. I hit myself lightly on the head. I need to focus but I can’t really do that when there’s a loud noise coming from my iPhone.

Wait, shit. Her name’s right there. Staring back at me. Don’t do it, Stiles. Don’t be stupid.

"Hey, Y/N!” _Stupid, asshole._

“Stiles?” Did she delete my number?

“Yeah, s'me.”

“You’re drunk.” There’s a half smirk on my face and I almost fall to the ground. I need to balance myself better. The wall. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Walk up to the wall, big guy.

“Nah, m'just a bitipsy.” There’s silence on the other end and I really don’t like that. “Wait, don’t hang up.” The words fall out of my mouth quickly and my fingers card through my hair. “Wait.”

“I’m here.” Y/N whispers and tears well up in my eyes.

“I know you got a man, but he’s not like this, like me.” She stays silent and I take that as my cue to keep talking. “You make it hard to love you, like, really hard. I can’t stand this. Only thing everyone does is talk nonsense and I hate it.” A loud sigh escapes my lips. “I know we was movin’ too fast and then we lost it. I would understand if you really moved on with… Ben—I say with disgust—but just wait.”

“Stiles—” I interrupt her and keep talking anyway because I really need to _say_ it. I need her to _listen_ to this.

“Wait on me. Just wait on me.” I close my mouth for a few seconds. “Y'know, Lydia hates me. Malia only agrees to see me because of Scotty but she doesn’t talk to me that much.”

“They don’t hate you. They love you.”

“Not after we broke up, that’s for sure. Was I really that shitty of a boyfriend?” I sniffle and run my flannel sleeve under my eyes and nose. “Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Is that the truth?” My voice breaks at the last word.

“Yes.” I’m one hundred percent sure she can hear me crying softly through the speakerphone. “I could never lie to you, Stiles.”

“I still love you.”

Nothing.

“Is he good to you?” I stop breathing, preparing myself for the answer I know will leave her lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, he is.” I let out another cry and this time I can hear her sniffling.

“Do you love him?” _Why are you doing this to yourself?_

“Yes.”

We stay in silence for what feels like forever. Both of us crying to the other. My heart breaking all over again every time I listen to her sniffle or when she cries harder into the phone. I hate this. I hate how we ended up. I hate that she’s hurting. I hate that she’s crying because of me. I should’ve never texted her. I should’ve never left. I should’ve never allowed her to walk away. I should’ve gone after her. I hate her. I love her.

“Just wait, babe. Wait on me.”


End file.
